


Through a Glass Darkly

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Series: Twinyards Appreciation Week [18]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Aaron has an imaginary friend.  He follows Aaron everywhere, winking into existence in shop windows and bathroom mirrors, blinking back at him from the bowls of spoons and the still water in the bathtub.  Andrew looks just like him.  He is short, blonde, he even has the same scar on his knee from when Aaron fell on the playground when he was three.  He knows well enough now not to mention him to any of his teachers or the bus driver, the hairdresser or the therapist.  None of them believe that Aaron knows the difference between a reflection and the real boy who lives where that reflection is meant to be.Written for day 6 of Twinyards Appreciation Week: Transformation.
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard
Series: Twinyards Appreciation Week [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/858608
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47
Collections: Twinyards Appreciation Week 2019





	Through a Glass Darkly

Aaron has an imaginary friend. He follows Aaron everywhere, winking into existence in shop windows and bathroom mirrors, blinking back at him from the bowls of spoons and the still water in the bathtub. Andrew looks just like him. He is short, blonde, he even has the same scar on his knee from when Aaron fell on the playground when he was three. He knows well enough now not to mention him to any of his teachers or the bus driver, the hairdresser or the therapist. None of them believe that Aaron knows the difference between a reflection and the real boy who lives where that reflection is meant to be.

Andrew speaks to him for the first time when Aaron is five.

“The teacher is stupid,” he whispers from the shiny mirror Aaron stole from a little girl in his class. He keeps it in his desk so Andrew can stay close. “You know I’m real.”

Aaron can’t say anything. His teacher has already threatened to send him to the principal’s office for mentioning Andrew. So he shares a smile with the mirror and starts filling out his worksheet.

“Your mom can go to hell,” Andrew says from the shards of a broken bottle when Aaron is seven.

“She loves me,” Aaron says, Aaron always says, “it’s my fault for bugging her.”

“You don’t need friends; you have me,” Andrew says from the mirror in the school bathroom when Aaron is ten. Aaron looks at Andrew’s black eye and split lip and wonders if he feels it. His head is pounding and he wants to cry but Andrew won’t shed a tear and Aaron wants to be like Andrew.

“You’re my best friend, Andrew,” Aaron says and washed the blood off his face.

“Let me protect you,” Andrew says from the shattered window above him, his face distorted by the cracks in the pane. Aaron is twelve. He offers Andrew some of the white pills he finds on the floor. He isn’t supposed to take them but Mom is sleeping and she won’t remember what happened when she wakes.

Andrew refuses the pills but his eyes in the mirror are fuzzy and far away and Aaron drifts.

“Just let me help you,” Andrew says from the pool of blood around Aaron’s head when he’s fifteen and eleven months old.

“What can you do? You’re just my shadow. Go away,” Aaron cries. 

“Trust me,” Andrew says. “It’s almost time.”

“Grab the wheel,” Andrew says from the rearview mirror on the day he turns sixteen. “She isn’t watching; do it now.” Aaron does and his world flips end over end. Metal crunches. Glass breaks. Mom screams. And then silence.

Aaron wakes in a world painted red. Andrew is with him, calling in his ear. 

“If you don’t do it now, it will be too late,” Andrew says. “The moment of our birth approaches.”

“What do you want me to do?” Aaron asks. His head hurts and he’s not sure if he can move.

“Take some of her blood and write my name on the mirror,” Andrew says. “Now. It’s now or never.”

Aaron obeys, the letters big and clumsy and shockingly red.

A light flashes. Aaron is blinded and there is another body in the front seat. Strong arms wind around him. He is lifted. Finally Aaron can see. Andrew carries him from the wreckage and leaves their mother behind.


End file.
